


Turn Your Face Toward the Sun

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale
Genre: Forgive Me, Frisk just wants everyone to be happy, Human Sans, Human sorcerer sans, Humans got their shit together, Pap grows up, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Sans Needs A Hug, almost forgot that one, asgore is not in charge, flowy has not currently gotten his shit together, there will be pop culture jokes, toriel gives that hug, trans human sans, undyne isnt nice before she is, why am i hurting my fav child sans god
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:10:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5474000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sans, its the sun! Isn't it great?” Papyrus’ voice barely broke through the haze in his mind. The wind pushed against his jacket and gloved hands and it was too much, he needed to feel the sunlight on his skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunset

It was the sun. Shining so bright his head hurt, a burning, wavering explosion of color across the sky. He couldn't take his eyes off of it.

 

Twenty years, and it had all added up to this. He was finally back under the real sky, under real clouds and stars, hanging above him. They were so beautiful, he thought. Better than a dream.

 

“Sans, its the sun! Isn't it great?” Papyrus’ voice barely broke through the haze in his mind. The wind pushed against his jacket and gloved hands and it was too much, he needed to feel the sunlight on his skin.

 

“Sans are- what are you doing?” another question that could be answered later. 

 

Running toward the ledge faster than he’d run in a long time, he yanked off his gloves and threw them into the air behind him. Reaching back, Sans pulled the mask off of his head and threw it to the ground, his jacket soon joining it. He could feel the wind on his cheeks, twirling in his hair, the sun on his face and it was so good to be home-

 

“Sans, Your face.” Frisk tugged on his sleeve quietly and he dragged his eye away from the sight before him to look at the little child at his side.

 

One eye met hers but the other only imitated the movement, an ice blue iris covered in a white sheen staring blindly out. Webbed scars mangled his eyebrow and curved like lightening from the bridge of his nose to his forehead, the blind eye their epicenter. Sans knew it wasn’t very pretty, but thats what channeling your soul into magic did to humans. True sorcery was a lost art.

 

“I know, kiddo.” He said, and suddenly he was on his back, a whimpering warm body pressed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around them, running his hands through their hair and oh god, he could actually feel-!

 

His chest felt tight. Was this real? Was it another dream, was he going to wake up back underground? Tears poured from his eyes and he sat up to press his exposed face into Frisks hair, huge, choking sobs mixing with the child’s quiet sniffles. 

 

When he looked up, he saw not the ceiling of his bedroom, but his brother. Papyrus looked beyond confused, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. 

 

“What. is. this.” Oh no. Undyne stalked up to where the two humans sat, eyes ablaze with primal fury. 

 

“You’re human?!” She shouted, and Sans could see the murder in her eyes. He forgot to play it cool. He forgot how monsters felt about humans, and oh goodness was undyne furious. He couldn't bring his eyes to hers, his whole body flinching. 

 

“I’m . . . . . human.” Saying it felt wrong, old alarms going off in his head with years of lies and secrecy turned habit.

 

“You’re a human sorcerer.” She said again, and wait just a minute there -

 

“I’m not-“

 

“- you’ve used magic, Sans, don’t lie to me!” she snarled at him, taking another step forward. The former-skeleton could hear Frisk scrambling away as she came closer to him, her eyes swimming in a desperate, desperate anger. 

 

“All this time, you could have broken the barrier and you didn’t.” She grabbed his collar and pulled him into the air in one fluid moment and he blanched, fear rolling off him in waves.

 

She pulled back a fist, and he closed his eyes tight. He deserved this. She was right. How could he have thought this would be okay?

 

The blow didn't come. Sans opened his eyes to see Papyrus standing between undyne and Sans own dangling form, his face unusually hardened. He held the guards-woman’s unoccupied fist tightly in one hand, and she looked so shocked that she did react until the object of her anger had fallen in a crumpled heap in the dirt.

 

A hard blow to her face sent her reeling, hands going out on reflex to catch herself as she fell. Whipping around and scrambling to her feet, she faced Papyrus with growing agitation. 

 

“Don’t touch my brother that way, Undyne. Please.”The tall skeletons voice cracked in the middle, his legs wobbling. She could see the confusion, the shame and the fearful sadness bubbling up inside of him. 

 

Sans reached out to him, one oddly pale human hand grazing his leg. “Papy-“

 

Papyrus’ breath hitched and Sans stopped short, eyes flashing up to his little brother with poorly disguised fear. Papyrus stared down at him for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to say something. 

 

Words never came. Instead, he turned on his heel and sprinted back into the cavern that once held the barrier without a word. 

 

Sans couldn't breathe. He could feel the stares of his friends crawling on his back, Papyrus ran away come backohgodhecouldntbreathepapyrus!!

 

He wheezed, the world closing in around him as he struggled to take a full breath. He sobbed, the ache in his chest growing, panic nearly consuming him.

“P-papy . . . I- please . . . c-come bac-ck . . . “But nobody came.

 

Frisk hovered above him before lightly touching the sides of his head. His hair was matted and wild, but a pretty dark brown, they thought. Crouching down to his height they gently rested their forehead against his. 

 

"Shh, shh," they hushed, but they were crying too. 

 

This wasn't the victory they had been expected. They just wanted everyone happy, and safe. Sans shouldn't be crying, papyrus shouldn't have ran away. 

 

"Sans," they pleaded, with a quiet voice. "Its going to be ok.”

 

He barely even seemed to know they were there. It was as if he had relapsed back into a lost soul. How can they save him?

 

“Sans.” A soft hesitant hand settled on his shoulder, covering Frisks hand in their own. Toriel stared solemnly but comfortingly down at them, her eyes filled with concern. 

 

“Here, my child. Let us take Sans inside, its been a long day.”

 

Toriel gazed down at her friend with sad eyes, gathering his shaking form in her arms. 

 

“Oh Sans.” She sighed, turning the the cave entrance. She knew he was older than Frisk, but he still looked so small, so defeated. She couldn't let him break like this. The former queen barely spared a glance to Undyne as she sat on the ground, Alphys crouched beside her. 

 

“Toriel.” Asgore’s voice was quiet, questioning. She turned back to him, Frisk clutching at her skirts, Sans curled into her as he shook silently. 

 

“We’re going back inside. The barrier will remain a secret, for now until we can declare ourselves to the human government and find a place on the surface to settle.” Toriel’s commanding voice cut through the air like steel, and Asgore simply bowed his head in acceptance. 

 

“As you command.” 

 

She turned back to the cave and shifted the small human in her grip, smoothing a hand over his matted curls. Somewhere along the boat ride back to the ruins he fell into a uneasy sleep, his hands twisted limply in her dress. 

 

Frisk dozed beside her on the two hour trip, lulled by the rocking of the boat and the river person’s whispering lullabies. 

 

Toriel ended up carrying both sleeping forms up into the ruins, all the way to the house. She placed Sans in the plush living room chair and Frisk in the children's bedroom, kissing their small forehead and tucking blankets around them.

 

Oh, to be young again. She smiled at the memories of her own childhood, Pulling away from the bed to stand in the center of the room. 

 

She had spent many joyful hours here once. Years of love and contentment rusted over by dust and grief coated the walls, a lifetime of children's innocent laughter echoing in her mind. She could still feel those children's souls reaching out to her in the dark, could still see their tiny hand prints on the walls. 

 

A ragged sob tore from her chest. Why was she burdened with these memories? Why was she the only one who remembered, who wanted to remember six soft faces with rosy cheeks and smiling eyes? Closing the bedroom door silently behind her, she shuffled to the main room, dropping into a chair by the table. Resting her head in her hands, she recalled the children before Frisk. 

 

Each one brought new hope. First to her, then to the citizens of the underground. She didn't blame Undyne for her anger, truthfully. 

 

Undyne held the hopes of the people on her shoulders, that one day she might lead them out of the underground. But all the Captain could do was wait for the next child to fall. 

 

Toriel’s mind jumped to the next troubling thought train.

 

When had Sans fallen? How had he come to care for Papyrus? Despite being isolated in the ruins for many years, she knew the brothershad been around for a long time. Sans would have to have been here for years if he had raised Papyrus. 

 

Toriel stalled her dark musings as the tell tale prickle of a gaze fell upon her. Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw the frightened gaze of an animal, staring out from an unfamiliar face. 

 

How much of Sans was real? How much of her friend was an act put on by this human? The self inquiry struck Toriel like a hand to the face, but she could only shake her head. No. She couldn't allow such thoughts. It was time to woman up and care for Sans in his time of need.

 

“Sans.” She spoke his name ver softly, carefully, eyes trained to his face for any sign of panic.

 

The short human tensed before relaxing, recognizing her voice with a twinge of friendly affection. He allowed himself to slump, half lidded eyes watching her.

 

“Hey, Toriel.” he said quietly, the exhaustion in his voice weighing on every word. She smiled half heartedly, standing slowly and offering her hand. 

 

“Come now. A bath and some warm food would do you a world of good.” She offered, smile turning a little softer. “I couldfix your hair if you want.”

 

Sans stared at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes for a moment. Why wasn’t she angry, he wanted to ask. Why are you still so kind? He opened his mouth to voice his confusion.

 

“ . . . . Thank you.” He’d ask her later.

 

Warm steamy air flooded the bathroom as Toriel kneeled beside the tub, adjusting the temperature. Sans sat on the toilet seat behind her, eyes staring off into space. He scratched absentmindedly at his binder clad chest, fingers catching on the worn, home-stitched edges every once and a while. 

 

Toriel learned that on top of being a human, he was born with the wrong set of equipment. She understood what it meant, when she offered to help him out of his smallish, worn shirt and he stammered out resounding no. 

 

Toriel . . . what would he do without her? She was so kind, and accepting. Like a mom, but . . . different? Sans wasn’t sure entirely what a mom was supposed to be like. He broke from his musings when a large hand ruffled his hair affectionately. 

 

“Alright now, the bath’s all ready and waiting for you. Do you need help . . ?” She hovered over him as he struggled awkwardly out of the tight garment. Sans grunted, wiggling his fingers pathetically when it got caught on his shoulders. 

 

Toriel snorted. “Oh my. Here, let me just-“ and she pulled it right off of him, leaving him feeling the most exposed he’d ever felt in his whole life. Sans crossed his arms over his small but still noticeable chest, eyes roaming over his body in good light for the first time in years. 

 

The boxers he wore were old and worn, but soft, with green stripes. His legs and arms were covered in bruises and scars. Some were from knife wounds, fights with monsters, many magic accidents and other such things, each incident coming back to him with clarity. Sans shivered, rubbing his arms more. 

 

“I’ll leave you alone of you wish. the soap and scrubbers are all over there in the corner.” Toriel told him kindly. 

 

“I have some clothes that might fit you.” She added, gesturing toward the hallway. “I’ll leave them outside. If . . . . could I ask you something?”

 

“Uh, sure, Tori. Ask away.” Sans mumbled, watching her. here it comes. the questions about how he fell, the costume, Papyrus, all things he didn't really want to-

 

“How old are you?”oh. That wasn’t too bad. 

 

“I’m 28.” He told her simply. 

 

The former queen didn't ask anymore. “well I’ve kept you from your bath long enough. I’ll make some food and get those clothes for you, so you can eat while I fix your hair.” She smiled pleasantly, pulling the bathroom door behind her as she went out into the hall. 

 

“Call me if you need anything!” her voice echoed down the hall. 

She really was a great friend, Sans told himself. Dropping the boxers to the floor and stepping into the blissfully warm tub, he took care to soak every inch of his body. Grabbing a sponge and some lavender smelling soap, he scrubbed furiously at his skin, washing off grime and sweat from every inch of himself that he could reach. 

 

Pouring the soap on his head and working it through his hair, he didn't even try to untangle the raging, wild curls. Toriel said she would take care of it. When Sans got out of the bath, skin red and scoured, he found his binder cleaned and folded on top of a fresh pair of boxers, some worn but clean sweat pants and a softT-shirt. 

 

After throwing the boxers and pants on, Sans struggled into his binder, arranging himself until he was comfortable. He pulled the shirt over his head and as the collar passed his face he caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. 

 

He knew he couldn't see out of his left eye, but he didn't know this was how bad it was. Faintly trailing a hand along the web of scars branching out from his eye, he thought about the last time he’d actually taken the time between changing to look at himself. 

 

Papyrus had been three, Sans had been thirteen. It was the coldest winter Sans could ever remember, the snow piling up to his waist and freezing him to the core. The little skeleton was so sick at the time that sans had wrapped him in a scarf and tied him to his chest, sitting flush to the human’s body under his shirt and coat. 

 

Papyrus couldn't remember now what had happened, but for Sans it was one of the scariest months of his life. He had lost all feeling in his limbs and face, and they had no place to stay. One night he sat, huddled in an alleyway, arms hugging the shivering small body beneath his may layers of clothing. It was too cold. 

 

Closing his eyes, he had wished for something, anything that would warm them up, so he could make it through the night and see his baby brother through for another day. He could feel the cold seeping into his heart and the shuffling, rasping breaths of the tiny life pressed close to his body. He wouldn't let himself die now. He was determined not to give up. 

 

With a jolt, some barrier broke within him and the alleyway was awash with blue light. Sans could feel the heat bloom in his chest and lick his insides, its intensity almost too much to bear. His eye felt like it was on fire. 

But despite the pain, he held out his hands and imagined a fire there, channeling the energy within him shakily up his arm. In a barely controlled burst of sparks and magic it appeared in his hand, a blue flickering flame that radiated the warmth he craved. 

 

It hurt, but . . . he could do magic. Just like all the other monsters he’d seen here. He could save Papyrus from dying of whatever cold he had, he could hide from other monsters better . . . he could find them a real place to live. 

 

Shifting Papyrus wearily in his arms and bringing the fire closer to himself, Sans had closed his eyes and let the warmth drown out the thudding pain in his head. 

 

That was years ago, now. He tugged at the bottom of the t-shirt nervously as he ventured out into the rest of the house, padding softly toward the living room.

 

The older human was acutely aware of every breeze and temperature change that hit his bare skin. It was like a sensory overload, being able to directly interact with everything after such a long time. 

 

As he entered the main room a blast of dry warm air hit him, making goosebumps raise on his skin. Toriel sat in her high-backed chair by a roaring fire, a pillow at her feet. 

 

“Have a good wash then?” She waved him over, gesturing to the pillow at her feet. A big flat hair brush materialized in her hand, as well as a little bottle, and she poured a hand full of sweet smelling oil onto her paws and spreading it through San’s hair, getting it nice and slick. He dozed against her knee while she worked the brush carefully through his tangled mess of hair, working the tightly coiled curls into a semblance of order.

 

“You know, when your hair isn't a knotted mess it actually looks quite nice. Do you want to leave it like this, or dread it?”

 

Sans nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden break in silence. “y-you can dread it?”

 

Toriel smiled at him fondly.”I used to dread Asgore’s hair every once and a while, you know.” Sans lips -cracked and dry from years of cold and nervous biting- quirked in amusement. 

 

“could you do some with yarn?” He asked, fuzzy memories of his older foster sister doing her hair similarly. Swirling colors swaying down at the line of her waist, sun shining through the curtain of yarn. Her smiling face came close to his and strong hands grasped him under the armpits and lifted him into the air. 

 

He wondered if she was still out there, on the surface. Did she miss him?

 

“I could indeed. I have many colors, too.”Toriel’s voice broke him out of his reverie instantly, his eye coming back into focus. 

 

“One color for every child that never made it back to the surface?” his request was quiet, but it rang in his companions ears like the echoing clap of church bells. All was silent for a moment, before she swept to her feet. 

 

“Thats a lovely idea, Sans.” 

 

When she returned to her spot at his back, home spun balls of yarn at hand, she began to braid, weave and knot. Long into the night the human and his friend sat together, basking in the shared, silent comfort. 

 

Sans could see more and more of his hair fall to the sides of his face. Some were dreaded, some were braided, some had little copper and silver beads on them and a few woven with yarn. He felt . . . warm. The numbness that filled the room finally began to fade, affection warming his insides as he dozed against Toriel’s legs. 

 

He missed Papyrus. 

 

“ . . . knock knock.”

 

Sans felt the legs at his back tense a bit at the sudden break in the silence.

 

“Who is there?” Toriel replied in a warm tone. 

 

“Banana knock knock.”

 

“Who’s there?”

 

“Banana knock knock.”

 

“Sans.” at her unimpressed tone he smiled, familiar mischief lighting in the former-skeletons eyes.”Gotta say who’s there, Tori.”

 

“ . . . Who’s there?”

 

“Banana knock knock.”

 

“Who’s there!” The former queen asked, tugging on one of his dreads playfully. 

“Orange you glad I didn't say Banana?”

 

Her laughter rang throughout the house, infectious and happy. The comb came to rest in her lap and she squeezed Sans shoulders gently, giggling. 

 

“Oh I’m very glad.” She replied when she finally calmed down. Her arms encircled his neck, and she pressed her face into his hair with a watery smile.

 

“Very glad indeed.”

 

 


	2. Under the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we tie up some loose ends, and create some more. Young Sans retreats from the ruins after another run in with an asshole with petals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two, just for you!!!!!! thank you, thank you very much*elvis voice*. but naw, seriously- I'm so sorry for the wait!! I started this fic during the school year, and it was a bitch to write fic and do work and school and alla dat, so I had to have adult priorities and put this on hold. You have no earthly clue how good it feels to post chapter 2, it makes me feel less like a flake.   
> alright, as always, please comment, leave kudos, any questions you have feel free to inquire, and-
> 
> lets begin chapter 2.

There was a brilliant moment of weightless, wondrous flight; the void beneath him nearly swallowing him up, the cold, stark light of the moon on his back. His heart pumped harder than a bird’s, his lungs filling up with cold, sharp air and his eyes watering with exposure. 

Looking into the black abyss below, he asked himself if this was what he wanted. But it was too late to go back now.

Gravity jerked him out of the air, dragging him down into the darkness below. The boy screamed for an unknown care, wind generated by his fall whipping past his body.

When his cries fell silent upon a bed of flowers far below, the quiet night resumed as if nothing had happened. 

=^= 

“You must speak with everyone at some point.” Toriel sighed softly, carrying three plates to the dining table in her large, furry hands. Sans sunk lower in his seat, the metal beads in his hair glinting in the light.

“I don’t know how to do that.”He replied, a soft, but troubled frown taking over his face. “Maybe you could give me a tu-Toriel.”

Frisk snickered from their seat beside him, the former-queen’s own laughter bubbling up from within her. 

“Ah, my friend. That was simply marvelous.” She chuckled, sliding the food onto the table.”But don't think that got you out of this conversation.” 

Sans let out a half-joking curse. Frisk elbowed him, shaking their head with a devious grin.

“No cuss words, there is a young impressionable human present.” Toriel said half-sternly, a smile still curled at her lips.   
She watched the man across from her as he ate- the former queen had learned more about him in the last week he’d lived in her home than she’d ever known when they first met face to face. Not so much about his past, no- he was less than forthcoming about that- but it was the way he acted that told her the most. 

He held himself with a cautious, highly aware air about him. It bordered on paranoid sometimes, when his eyes sharpened and the dark hairs on his neck and arms raised in greeting to something only he could sense. Sometimes touching things like rough fabric or the worn stone of the ruins walls would be too much for him. He’d taken to wearing a pair of soft, thin white gloves that she had made at his request. 

Frisk treated him differently as well. She would watch the child approach him timidly, but at the first sign of welcome they’d dash into his arms. Sometimes, he would carry the child about for the whole day, on his shoulders or back. They would whisper about things Toriel knew not of- prompting soft smiles from the older human and giggles from her charge. It made her happy, to see him recover so quickly. 

But now, with the barrier down and two weeks of inactivity, she knew they’d need to get this reconciliation with Sans true nature out of the way. 

“Sans, Its been two weeks.” Toriel tried again, placing her cutlery down carefully. The human man caught her eyes and sighed, gazing down at his lap with an unreadable expression.

“Yeah . . . I know.” He said softly, and she could hear the rustle of his hands turning in his lap, the gloves being pulled aside. He did that often too, she knew. Staring at the only exposed skin he allowed on himself other than his head, flexing his worn, calloused fingers on fascination. 

Her heart hurt, to think of where this sensitivity, this fascination with his own skin and flesh came from. 

“Have you talked to anyone?” His voice brought her back from her thoughts quickly. She nodded, a smile playing on her lips.

“Alphys and I spoke this morning. She said if you were up to it, she would arrange for everyone to come to the lab for a little get-together.” Toriel spoke, once again picking up her fork to finish of the last of her quiche. Sans had made it, in a stroke of culinary genius. It really was a good quiche. 

“ . . . I mean. I’m ready as I’ll ever bee, so theres no use getting buzzed about it.” He shrugged. Frisk let out a sudden groan, slamming a hand on the table in exasperation with a scowl.

“I’ll call her back then.” Toriel chuckled as she gathered plates. She had a good feeling about this. 

=^=

He didn't smile. Oh, Alphys could name a few things about this de-masked Sans that bothered her- but the biggest thing was probably that he didn't smile. 

Instead wide, sunken eyes sat in a face that was thin in awkward way- like it was meant to be round, rather than strangely pale and thin. His mouth was drawn into a slack line- face showing no emotion other than guarded exhaustion.

His skin was like paper, dry, thin and dark. Alphys didn't think his skin was supposed to be so dark, yet so pale at the same time. He was small, awkward, and held himself in a way that didn't exude the same confidence that he used to. The feeling of his eyes following her everywhere was the same as when she first met him. 

But despite all of that- despite everything that unnerved her or scared her, she hesitantly opened her arms for a hug, greeting him warmly, because god forbid if he wasn't one of her few friends in the world. When he pulled out of the quick, awkward embrace and awarded her with a flashing hint of a smile, she knew he was still the Sans she’d known before. 

Undyne would see it too, she knew it. 

=^=

Undyne wasn’t sure of herself. 

It took a lot for her to admit things like that, usually. This whole clusterfuck . . . . that counted.

Letting her head thump against the edge of her claw foot tub, eyes prickly with lack of sleep, they fell closed as memories replayed themselves on the insides of her eyelids. 

Papyrus’ troubled expression. Sans tearful, trembling form. His human, alien face. 

The image of him, ragged and emotional and utterly out of it snapped her into the present again. That was so unlike Sans, she thought. He was calm, collected, nonchalant and cheerful. He was lazy, effortless, she knew it was true and . . . it was all a front. 

The surface of the water shifted as she sank lower into its cold depths. The first time she’d met the skeleton brothers, somehow she knew he wasn’t quite right. That smile, stretched impossibly wide across his face never wavered, no matter the circumstance. It was chilling.

A memory came unbidden to her mind suddenly. Papyrus was sixteen then, a loud, bright young man with dreams bigger than the mountain they were trapped under. 

She’d just wanted to get some sleep, honest to god. But no! The teenager had come knocking on her door a few minutes after two am, rapid, excitable knocking interrupting her rest. 

“WHO IS IT?!” She’d shouted hoarsely, dragging herself out of bed. Undyne was tired and had training with the whole guard squad in the morning. She has no energy for this ridiculousness. 

Opening the door roughly, light flooded the dark front yard from behind her. She really couldn't give a shit that she was exposing her t-shirt and underwear clad body to the world. 

“CAPTAIN UDYNE! I AM PAPYRUS, AND I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD!”

Undyne could only stare down at the skeleton, dumbfounded. This kid- Papyrus, stood on her patio, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His skull practically glowed with the sincerity of his smile, tilted forward in anticipation. Like a dumb little puppy. 

She slammed to door in his face. It was too damn early for this shit-!

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!! 

If she was a weaker monster, she would have burst into tears. Sleep weighed heavy on her muscles, her eyelids prickled with sleep and the weight of her exhaustion, and did she mention it was just too fucking early?!

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK- 

Just as she turned to wrench open the door and give the excitable young monster a piece of her mind, the horrid noise stopped. Peering through the curtains of the closest window, she saw a curious sight.   
Another monster, what must have been the skeleton’s dad, or brother had appeared out of nowhere. Muffled words were said, but the smile on the newcomers face never changed, or wavered. The shorter skeleton placed a gentle hand on the taller’s arm, tugging him toward the main cave. 

Undyne shuffled closer to hear his low voice through the walls of her house. 

“- She’s not mad at you, kiddo. But it is two am, you know? Most monsters are asleep right now.” Papyrus face fell a little, and he slumped.

“Do you think I ruined it?” He whisper-yelled, rubbing one arm self consciously. 

The other skeleton only continued to smile, seemingly unconcerned.”Nah, bro. I think . . . You’re enthusiasm was impressive.” 

Well he certainly wasn’t lying. The captain watched as the shorter skeleton lead his charge away from her house and out into the main tunnel beyond the property line. 

Papyrus was back the next morning, and so was Sans. From the moment Undyne met the skeleton brothers, it had always been that way. 

A thought fired off in her mind, causing the fish woman’s eyes to fly open. 

It had always been that way. Sans never failed to provide for Papyrus. Everything he did was for his brother. Undyne knew he loved his younger brother unconditionally, with everything that he had. 

Behind that lazy, carefree exterior there was . . . A human. A loving, powerful, secretive human, that had more responsibility than she’d thought. A human that truly loved, and devoted their life, to a monster. A human that was her friend, despite the feeling of betrayal that really- it seemed so silly now. 

Pushing herself up out of the bath, Undyne shook off the water and stalked into her bedroom purposefully. 

=^=

Where . . . . ? The dull scrape of bones against stone and dirt echoed in the large cavern as he sat up on the bench. The thing was grey with age, creaking wood and rusted metal armrests on either side of it. 

The echo flower by his ear whispered mockingly in his brother’s voice. “I guess I just wasn't ready for the responsibility.”

Papyrus shook his skull, eye sockets drooping wearily. Sans had lied to him. He let the thought sink in. Not that Sans hadn't lied to him in the past, but Papyrus knew that this was different. 

This was big. Sans had never really answered him when he asked where they came from- jokes about getting a visit from the stork did not count- but he’d never paid it any mind.

But Sans was a human now. He’s always been a human, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered. Papyrus frowned more, curling his hands tightly under the rim of the bench. 

That meant- well he wasn't sure what that meant. Papyrus loved his brother so much that he did not think he could live without him. So much it hurt to think of a place where he’d have to continue on alone. Would he even be the same brother though? He’d cried, cowered, and dropped his ever-present smile in the few minutes he’d been human; all things Papyrus never associated with Sans. 

His phone buzzed. Alphys had sent him a text asking him to come to the lab. Pulling himself up off the bench, he patted it with a fond sigh before he left. 

“I think you did pretty well.” he said to no one as he passed the echo flower.

“I think you did pretty well.” It replied solemnly. 

Papyrus was going to see Alphys. 

=^=

Sans swept Papyrus into his arms the moment he saw that wretched flower. It’d only been a passing glance, but he couldn't mistake the hollow eyes and knowing grin for anything else.

He almost tripped and fell a number of times as he stumbled through the ruins of the first underground city. He traveled through holes in buildings, around the strange red leaves and purple stone to the back entrance. 

He fucking hated that thing. How it had spoken to him after he fell. The threats and the magic and the- 

“Do you want to know what happened to the last human that fell down here??” Sans let out a yelp and scrambled back, prompting a mocking laugh from Flowey. 

“The only thing I want to know is why you want to keep bothering me!”The little human hissed, muscles tensed and hands clutching at his precious cargo.

“They d i e d. The king k i l l e d them, you silly thing. And he’ll kill you too-“ Flowy bobbed and winked cutely, his face flickering”-unless you figure something out.” 

Another mocking laugh.

“Pathetic. I’m surprised you’ve lasted as long as you have.” And then the flower was disappearing back into the ground, leaving nothing behind but a single golden petal. 

Sans stared at the spot on the ground where the flower had been and wondered who the king was.


	3. Old Beginings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're introduced to a new player.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without further ado, please welcome the man of the hour, my king, my man, my everything- 
> 
> *drumroll*
> 
> GASTER!!!!!!

“And if a human ever WERE to fall-“

“You do not underSTAND THE FULL WEIGHT OF WHAT YOU SUGGEST, WOMAN!!” The thunderous roar shook the cavern above, shaking rocks and dust down upon the two monsters.

Toriel’s eyes were wide, her face frightfully blank. Fury lit a fire in her eyes, the only sign of emotion on her face.

“What,” She breathed sharply,”Do you think the gravity of a situation in which you kill human children to harvest their souls is exactly, Asgore?” 

Her voice was colder than ice. Asgore drew himself up grimly, his horns gleaming in the light. 

As Queen Toriel stood in the throne room, facing the man she loved(?) with all the anger and sadness and frustration she had in her to give, she saw a man split in two by grief. A paradox.

He loomed in the weak sunlight, his feet spread, hands clenched on his trident before him in anger. His face betrayed no sadness, only resolute aloofness. But Toriel knew the signs of a broken man. 

Though his posture was rigid and tall, he hunched into himself, chin held toward his chest in a way that cast aging shadows upon his face. His eyes were dull, no longer determined like they used to be. He met her gaze firmly, though his hands trembled slightly and his feet rooted him to the ground.

It was in that moment she knew she knew he could not be reasoned with.

“You know I cannot let you do this.”

“Do what? Ensure a future for our kind?” His voice was pleading.  
“To allow the deaths of our children to lead you down the same path that humanity has forged.” he flinched harshly.

“Tori-“ Her anger boiled over, smoke shooting from her nose as she exhaled sharply. 

In a fit of decidedly un-queenlike movement, Toriel tore her crown from her head and threw it at him, before turning to storm out of the room. 

“I hereby renounce my duties as Queen of the underground. I would rather live out my life alone in exile than accept such a level of immoral hypocrisy.”

Then she was gone.

=^=

Dawn on Mt. Ebott was a peaceful affair. The summer sun peaked over the tree tops, bringing just enough light to start the day. Birds twittered in the treetops, frogs croaked and the fog clung tight to the canopy as it circled the mountain, soaking the forest floor below.

In a clearing facing the east sat a little tent. It was blue and faded, each seam showing signs of age and wear. It didn't contribute to the morning song in any way, just cast long shadows on the dew-covered grass. 

A loud yawn broke the quiet.

If you were to sit outside the tent and watch the form inside, you would see a human-shaped thing stretch their arms . . . and clumsily change clothes, their outline cutting a dark shape against the tent wall. 

“hehehaaayyy, its a brand new daaaaayy!” A rumbling, sleep-scratchy voice erupted softly from the human as they- he exited the tent, yawning yet again. He hummed the broken lyrics to a song while starting up his little campfire and cracking an egg in his little skillet. 

A dog shook itself from the tent blankets and ambled outside, tail wagging at the smell of eggs and bacon. 

“Heya pup! are you hungry?” The human murmured with a smile, offering his boxer a pat on the head. The dog wagged her little tail harder, snuffling and leaning into her owner’s side. She didn't bark much, but she loved to cuddle. 

A rustle off to the right sent her running; the early morning light catching on her brindle coat as she dashed away after a squirrel. Her human glanced after her but only shook his head, smiling. Silly dog. 

“GERDY!!”Breakfast was ready. Where was Gertrude? The human put his hands to her mouth, calling for the dog again. 

The human man was tall, and stocky. Muscles that spoke of an athletic life and light skin turned darker by the sun made him a striking figure, if the rugged, but infinitely kind green eyes didn't already.

He would have no trouble climbing down a deep hole, or scaling a cliff. 

“GerTRUDE!!!” he called again, face twisted in worry. He listened for any sign of his dog, waiting a minute. Then two. 

A faint bark from farther up the mountain sent him running. Dodging trees, vaulting logs and boulders, and scaling the short cliffside between him and his beloved dog was not difficult, but the ease did not soothe his worry. 

He reached a large outcropping where Gertrude paced agitatedly, tail draw tight to her body as she sniffed around. 

“Why didn't you come when I called, huh?” He asked, scratching her behind the ears in an attempt to calm her nerves. 

She looked toward the mountain in silent answer. He followed her gaze- was that a cave?!

“Holy shit.” He whispered emphatically. 

The human got to his feet, staring across the expanse of stone that lay between him and a huge cave that definitely hadn't been there the last time he came for a wilderness getaway. He took a few steps toward it. 

Gertrude growled menacingly into the dark. 

“Howdy! I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower.” The human startled at the sudden voice, whipping around. He dropped into a defensive stance, hand going to his ankle holster in a practiced gesture.

“Hello?” Maybe he’d just imagined it. it wasn't hard to hear things on this mountain after all. Breakfast was probably getting cold, he thought. Maybe it was time to head back-

Suddenly, he pitched backward into blackness, Gertrude’s barking fading quickly as it had started. 

There was a human in the underground. again.

=^=

He came to in a flurry of movement, disturbing the heavy silence around him. He was gasping, heaving, his chest hurt oh god- 

Sans curled on his side, tiny hands encircling his middle as his back spasmed in pain. He could feel the bruises all along his spine and tailbone. 

He remembered one of Nani’s crime lab shows, and how they made sure no one had broken bones. Slowly, he wiggled his little toes inside his ratty tennis shoes. Then his ankles. The he bent his knees up and down, before wiggling his little hips awkwardly. No problems there.

The small boy sat up slowly, twisting his arms, rolling his neck and wiggling his hands and fingers. He was all good, except for the bruises. He shifted his arm and hit something that made a crinkling noise. It was candy. Why was there-? oh.

He turned over, briefly taking note of the bed of yellow flowers he’d landed on as he gathered the scattered halloween candy to himself and stuffed it in his pockets. A noise sounded in the dark hall off to the side of the cave, and the small orphan’s head snapped up to search the darkness.

Sans was the first human child to ever arrive in the underground(although he didn't know that yet, he would soon enough).

=^=

A woman stood at the edge of a chasm, bundle held tightly to her chest. Her face was sunken, her eyes red-rimmed and raw. She wasn’t ready for what was about to come next. 

“I used to come here when I was very little. Not as little as you but-“ She stopped, staring pointedly away from herself. Her eyes seemed to drag themselves back to her precious package on their own accord. She would have cried, had she anymore tears to shed. 

“We’re here. Its so beautiful- so peaceful. You’ll love it, baby.” She pushed aside cloth to look upon a cold face, frozen in sleep.  
“You- you’ll love it.” she whispered hoarsely. Dry sobs wracked her body as she stood at the edge of an endless pit, pressing kisses and sweet nothings into the face of a child that would never know her, or anything else that life had to offer. 

“Maybe you weren't ready to come out into the world . . .“ her breath hitched as she rocked the baby in her arms. “ . . . But I think you did a pretty good job.”

Shaky hands held the bundle out over space for a good minute before dropping the babe down, down, down- onto the bed of flowers below. 

=^=

Wingdings Gaster was very, very old. Sunlight, stars and humanity dotted his childhood- yes, he was older than the war. He could remember a time when peace reigned. 

As a scientist he was objective, as an old man he was wise, and as a member of a race scorned he was fair. He did not share the blind hatred for humans that other monsters (the king, his only friend) held so close to their souls. 

So when he saw the scrap of fabric in the flowerbed marking the city entrance he did not waste time scooping it up. It took him a second to find the tiny thing in its sea of blankets, but soon a little face peeked up at him through the cloth around it. Its eyes were closed.

Gaster waited for something to happen. Cradled the (so unbelievably small) thing to his chest and waited vainly for a response of any kind.  
Facial distortion coupled and soft encouragements did not prompt response. Raised voices didn't either. All attempts at waking were a failure- the small human was unnaturally still.

Gaster was as objective as he was wise, and as wise as he was fair. Emotion did not dictate his actions whether they be irrational or acceptable. He stared into the face of this new life and felt the dusty stirrings of panic rise in his chest.

He reached out with a far more sensitive tool- probing the body with his magic. The human soul was just too small, to weak to survive. It was minutes from breaking into nothing, exhausted from holding on to an untethered body for so long. Had this been the soul of a monster child, it would have a month yet to leave the protective confines of its parent’s body. 

There was nothing he could do, he was going to loose the youngling before they could even take their first breath-

but he looked at that peaceful face again and thought of what he could learn, what he could save- and refused.

Kneeling in the patch of golden sunlight he placed the child carefully on the ground. 

Hands moving in wide arcs, his left eye began to glow a crackling golden, bathing his own shadow in writhing, shuddering light. He did not have the time or magical reserves to tether the tiny soul to its whole being- it would have to be the sturdiest part of the body, whatever organic frame humans had inside them that held them straight. 

Bones, he thought they were called. 

It took the better part of an hour to stabilize the child’s soul- he was forced to draw pathways and use his magic like a glue between the soul and their form.  
Gaster shuddered as his body processed the lack of magical energy when a sharp, soft cry rang through the air. 

His eyes snapped to the wriggling form in front of him, trepidation evident in his eyes. It was alive. No, they- this small human had pulled through, even with all of the magic and the stress on its soul, they still pulled through. 

He grasped the thing steadily as he arose, not looking once from its angry, red little face. It’s eyes stretched open for the first time to reveal watery, warm hazel irises. A hand pulled free from its wrapping to greet the first person they ever laid eyes on with curiosity and . . . joy? 

Hello, those eyes seemed to say. I love you, hello, I love you. They were so expressive. He would have to take note of that in his log when he started a new case file for this.

Gaster placed his finger calmly into the little one’s grasp, and stared in utter awe at his new companion for a good long while. 

=^=

Papyrus may have looked a bit of a mess when he showed up at the Lab. Scratch that, he looked like he’d slept on a dusty, dirty old bench in the rain. Dirt streaked his battle body and his boots were soaked, grime stuck uncomfortably in his joints. 

When he arrived Alphys stuttered and fussed over him, piling a towel and a change of clothes into his arms with a surprising amount of force for someone so timid.

“Sh-shower is th-thethird door to the l-left.” She pointed, stepping back and looking at him thoughtfully. “Are you hungry?” 

Papyrus gave her a tired, grateful smile.”Oh thank you Alphys. I am a bit hungry, yes.” 

“G-go shower and change, and I-I’ll make some ramen or something.” She returned kindly. The tall skeleton stood for a moment, nearly swaying- he was still quite tired, but Alphys was quick to shoo him off toward the bathroom.

Papyrus had to stoop to fit in the small walk in shower, but the moment the hot water hit his bones the discomfort was forgotten. He stood under the spray forever, allowing the heat to sink into his core and erase the bumps and bruises that came from sleeping in the rain. 

A muffled sound of the Lab door opening reached him and he shut the water off, becoming still. Beyond the bathroom door he could hear Toriel’s voice- the shuffling of feet, too many to be just her and Alphys- he heard the royal scientists’ timid voice.

“I’m s-so glad you c-came, Sans.”

So Sans was here. Papyrus pulled his replacement shirt over his head and slid on the pair of drawstring shorts he’d been given, before stepping out into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO HOLY SHIT FANART WARNING WOOT WOOT BY THE LOVELY RITSUONODERA ON DEVIATART HOOOOLY SHIT IT IS SO LOVELY I AM LITERALLY BEYOND DEAD AND ALSO WORDS
> 
> http://ritsuonodera.deviantart.com/art/Hum-Sans-fanart-for-TheEpicjellyfish-s-story-on-AO-623243154
> 
> GO LOOK AT ITTTTTTT OHMYGOOOOODDD  
> <3<3<3 
> 
> thanks so much you guys, for all the feedback and love?? I just- never thought I'd get this much feedback, and its really nice to be recognized and to be worth the time to comment and draw fanart for and all of these other precious things you give me. Thanks a million guys.


End file.
